A Time to Say Goodbye
by Callyn Daniels
Summary: To everyone else, she looked as composed as possible... To Stiles, she looked absolutely devastated. Spoilers for 3x23.


"Death doesn't happen to you."

Stiles felt his heart stop in his chest when he heard her speak those words and he wished she wouldn't continue.

"It happens to everyone around you," Lydia Martin finished from where she was sitting on the bed. He had never wished more with his whole being that he'd never uttered those words. He never had wished more that he had been wrong.

"Lydia," he breathed, wanting to go to her but feeling that he had no right to. She'd never looked more unapproachable.

To anyone else, she was the picture of composure. Her hair was almost perfect, only a curl or two out of place that she hadn't bothered fixing. Her black dress was only slightly wrinkled. Her makeup was flawless, no mascara tears running down her face. Stiles suspected whatever she was wearing was waterproof anyway.

She didn't look like she'd been crying, but Stiles wasn't sure she had any tears left to cry. Even if she did, he knew she wouldn't make it a show for everyone to see.

To everyone else, she looked as composed as possible at the death of her best friend. To Stiles, she looked absolutely devastated.

"You told me that," she whispered unnecessarily, clenching her fists in her lap while she broke the uneasy silence between them. He brought his mind back to the conversation they were having.

Stiles leaned back against the wall carefully, his fingers fiddling nervously with the bottom hem of his jacket. He felt like he should apologize even though no one blamed him. He felt like he should say something, but the hyperactive little bastard who couldn't keep his mouth shut couldn't find anything to say.

"You figure it out," she continued brokenly, "you always figure it out."

Stiles pursed his lips and shook his head. He remembered when she had said that to him, and he felt like he was looking back on a past life.

"I told you I didn't want to be found," she stood sharply, tearing her watering gaze away from him to look at the floor.

Stiles thought back to Meredith, the banshee from Eichen House who'd known and tried to tell them. He imagined Lydia's perfect handwriting on the window of her car. Isaac had said that Allison had found it.

There had been plenty of clues, and they failed. They couldn't save her. They'd only found the body, and that seemed to be all they ever did. Maybe that was all they'd ever do.

"Why didn't you figure it out?" Stiles tried not to notice the way her voice cracked. Even though she wasn't looking at him, he could see a host of emotions warring for dominance on her face. More than anything, however, she looked defeated.

He found he couldn't bring himself to look at her anymore, and stilled, shoving his hands in his pockets. He still felt like he needed to apologize for something, even though he didn't know what exactly for and that no one wanted an apology from him. They told him it wasn't his fault even though he had a feeling in his gut that it was. There was a coiling in the pit of his stomach and the same overwhelming feeling of failure he'd been surged through his, the way it had since this whole debacle had started.

Lydia strode out the door with an almost silent sob escaping past red lips. They were both out of things to say. He didn't go after her.

After a long moment, he pushed himself off the wall and shuffled down the hallway. He closed the door to Allison's bedroom behind him with a soft click.

He took his time and when he arrived at the elevator, he met Scott. He must have been standing there for a while, hands in his pockets leaning against the back wall.

"Scott," Stiles greeted softly. The alpha shook his head and let out a long suffering sigh.

"She said she loved me," Scott said eventually with that same lost look he'd been wearing for the last few days when he didn't think anyone was looking.

Stiles had guessed that much. Even if he hadn't already been told, Kira and Scott were giving each other more space than they had since they met. Personally, he felt that space was the last thing Scott needed right now.

The kitsune was dealing with her grief in the way that most teenagers deal with the death of a friend; she was taking it better than Stiles expected her to. Stiles suspected this was the first time she'd ever had to deal with death, and the first time she'd faced the fact that they weren't all as invincible as they seemed.

Death was something that wasn't new to Stiles. He had blood on his hands. He'd found more than his share of bodies, and he figured that it was just going to be part of this supernatural shit show that was now his life.

He felt numb and wondered if he would ever feel any other way again.

"Coup de foudre," Scott repeated the words that Meredith had told Stiles on the day Allison died. A bolt of lightning. Love at first sight.

There had never been better words to describe two people in the entire world.

"I feel like I cheated Isaac. He loved her too." Stiles heard that the beta had sat and listened to Allison's last words as she lay dying in Scott's arms. She'd confessed her love for Scott, but never mentioned the boy that had tethered her to life when she had sacrificed herself to the nemeton.

She'd sacrificed her last arrow to save him. Maybe that spoke louder than words.

"She could love more than one person, Scott. She loved both of you," Stiles answered, his fingers absently tapping against his leg. He leaned up against the wall of the elevator that had closed after neither of them had pushed a button for a floor.

"My mom said people can do that," Scott said, like he wasn't surprised that Stiles seemed to have it all figured out. The elevator suddenly seemed too small.

"Your mom is pretty smart," Stiles pushed the button for the main floor. Neither boy said anything until the elevator came to a stop.

"Scott, I-"

Scott cut off whatever he was going to say by clutching him with what must have borderline werewolf strength. Stiles pursed his lips, but hugged him back just the same. The alpha offered him a tight smile and a nod before walking out through the elevator doors.

"Stiles," Sheriff Stilinski was standing by the door to the apartment complex. Stiles moved forward, wrapping his arms around his father in an embrace that was returned just as tightly. When they pulled away, his father rested a hand on his shoulder. It was time.

The drive to the cemetery seemed too short. The line of cars seemed endless. The sun seemed too bright for this kind of affair and the air was warm.

Stiles couldn't remember how everyone else thought she died. It was probably some way that wasn't worthy of her anyway. He didn't remember how long he stood there staring at the stone.

There was a picture of Allison sitting above her casket. She was smiling brightly, her eyes sparkling. A moment in time where she looked as alive and happy as she'd ever been.

Chris Argent sat closest to his daughter's casket, right at the front. He looked far more shattered and wrecked than any person deserved to be. Scott was near the front as well, clutching his mother's hand like he'd float away if he let go.

Isaac was sitting near the front too and he and Scott nodded at each other over the distance. Stiles hadn't had much interaction with the beta since things had calmed down, but he didn't seem bitter or angry towards Scott.

Maybe Allison and Isaac had their moment, in their own way, that day before things had gone to hell. He hoped that she'd had her moment with everyone before she died.

His father led him right up to the front next to Lydia, and that felt much closer than Stiles thought he deserved to be.

Allison didn't have much for family. It seemed the hunting business had killed off most of them. Mr. Argent had said that there were some distant cousins somewhere around here, but they hadn't known Allison very well and were seated in the crowd. Gerard hadn't been invited.

Derek, Deaton, Kira and even the twins were somewhere in the crowd. Students from class were back there as well and his father had stopped to chat briefly with Coach Finstock as they were walking from their car.

The preacher was speaking, but Stiles wasn't really listening.

_'She died a hero,'_ he remembered Scott saying at the private funeral they'd had the night before. Mr. Argent had given her hunter's honors. Derek had given her pack honors and his father had given her honors that he gave fallen deputies.

Lydia started sniffling. Her throat catching and her eyes were pooling with tears.

"Lydia," he whispered softly, his hand lightly bumping her wrist. She turned to him looking more broken than he'd ever seen her.

She was shaking slightly, her eyes flying from the lowering casket back to him. Before his head could scream at him not to, he pulled her gently towards him.

She came willingly, burying her face in his shoulder and clasping her fingers around the fabric of his jacket. He held her as tight as he dared, and didn't say anything about the silent tears that were soaking his shoulder.

He couldn't bring himself to utter any false comforts. It would be a while before anything would be ok, but she seemed content to just have somebody hold her. He murmured soft apologies in her ear even though, for the first time in weeks, he felt that he didn't need to.

When the casket finally stopped there was silence. With a nod, the preacher departed and the crowd began to disperse. Mr. Argent moved forward and placed something on the grave stone. Scott moved forward as well, placing a comforting hand on the older man's shoulder before setting something next to the token that Allison's father had left.

Stiles felt the corners of his mouth twitch in something that resembled a smile.

"Lydia," he prompted gently, turning her enough to point to what Scott had left behind. She looked up at him and turned. A watery chuckle bubbled past her lips and she turned to bury her face back in Stiles shoulder.

It was a long time before any of them left, and Lydia didn't leave Stiles shoulder even after her mother came to seek her out. Scott, Lydia, and Stiles were the last ones left when all was said and done.

"Do you think she's doing ok?" Scott asked them. Lydia was standing between them and each of them held one of her hands.

Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles thought he caught a glimpse of a happy, healthy Allison smiling at them with tears in her eyes. She was gone as fast as she had come.

"Yeah, I think she is," he swallowed.

The stone they left behind held her name. The words "Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger leurs-même" were written in a delicate script.

Sitting on the ground below the words was a silver arrowhead and a pen.

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(A/N)

I really wanted to give myself some closure to Allison's death. I know that the next episode will be the big showdown and I've heard some rumors about season 4, so I'm not sure they'll be able to do much regarding a funeral and such. Writing my own makes me feel better; I honestly couldn't sleep last night because I was running over it in my head. Below is a rant about the season finale and my anger issues regarding tumblr and the fandom. Feel free to completely ignore/disregard it. I just wanted a place to vent.

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So I clearly had feelings after watching 'Insatiable'. I loved Allison's character and I will miss her dearly. However, after the episode I was on tumblr. The response to her death was almost disappointing. There are parts of this fandom that I'm not impressed with at all. There is no way to kill off any character and please everybody. A lot of people argued that she didn't have to be killed, but I couldn't see any other way for her to leave the show. As a character, Allison would never leave her friends and the home she'd made in Beacon Hills unless she'd been forced to.

My sister was furious with her final death speech because she was a big Isaac/Allison shipper and she felt like her love for Scott disregarded everything that Isaac and Allison had been through in season 3. I disagreed. I think that her final speech to Scott was absolutely necessary or I don't think Scott would have ever had any closure or been able to move on.

A lot of people seem to be angry with the way Jeff Davis is writing the show/what he's done this season. With the time and budget constraints, I think he's doing fine. It's MTV, not Shakespeare. Just because you would choose to write something differently does not mean the way that Jeff Davis creates his world it is bad or wrong. Is it always brilliant, no. But sometimes I think people read into it far too much.

I have a deep respect for the actors of the show. This has been my favorite season so far and it's fantastic to see the actors trying new things both on the show and off. As for the new actors coming next season, I'm excited that they are getting a chance to work on something that has already had a decent amount of success. I wish Crystal Reed the best and look forward to seeing more of her work in the future.


End file.
